


Day Twelve

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: 30+ Days of TFW Imagines [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Artist Reader, F/M, Model Dean, Nude Modeling, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine you're an artist, and Dean signs up constantly to be your male nude model, and he flirts with you the whole time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains no actual graphic descriptions of nudity. I really wasn't in the mood to write that when I wrote this and I don't feel like editing it in. Plus, the reader is this is made highly uncomfortable by the nudity of the models.

Nude art is not your favorite thing, but it's what your college art class is working on for the entire term, so you're stuck with it.

For the first few classes, you're going to be working as a class drawing several models. Then each student is going to have their own model to work with. The models are all volunteer and will choose who they want to work with before each class. You can request a model, but it's up to the model in the end.

The first class period, the model is a slim middle-aged African-American woman with long, beautiful limbs and bright eyes above a brilliant smile. You spend the class focusing on those areas, uncomfortable with looking anywhere else.

The next day the model is an older man. He has a scraggly grey beard and calloused hands. You do the same as the day before, only this time you add his torso to the equation.

The third model is a stunning young man around your age, with messy dirty blonde hair and a cocky grin. He's not extremely muscular, which you actually like more, and is a little softer around the edges. He spots you right off the bat and winks before dropping his towel and getting into position as the professor instructs.

Three more class periods, to introduce enough models for the six students in the class, and then it's time for individual work. The desks are rearranged to give each student their own area, with curtains dividing the room. You choose the desk in one of the far back corners. The models haven't arrived yet, so you set up your easel and supplies. You lay out your set of sketching pencils, making sure to keep them in the proper order so you don't get mixed up, and a series of blending tools. Then you settle in to wait.

The models arrive soon, wrapped in flowy white sheets. It's all very dramatic. You focus on your page and keep your breathing steady.

Suddenly a hand is thrust into your vision. "Dean," a voice says. "Dean Winchester."

You look up to see the gorgeous young man from the third class. His eyes are green, you see now, and are just as stunning as he is. "Y/N Y/L/N," you stammer.

"Wanna get this party started?" Dean asks, stepping up onto the makeshift stage.

"Um, actually, I talked to the professor," you begin. "I'm not comfortable with nude art, nor is it a subject I plan on using in my career. He's given me permission to have you keep your sheet on, so I'll still be practicing anatomy, but I'll also be practicing drawing fabrics."

"Oh?" Dean's eyebrows shoot up. "Alright, works for me. I get paid either way."

You instruct Dean into the pose you want, sheet draped artfully over his shoulder and lap. Then you settle in to draw.

The nice thing about working with a model is conversation. Dean in particular is easy to talk to- a lot easier than some of the other models you've drawn. He flirts constantly, something you're not familiar with and not really sure how to handle. But other than that, the class passes smoothly.

"Well," Dean says at the end of class. "That was fun." He smiles at you, but there's no cocky attitude in this one. Instead, it gives you butterflies in your stomach. "Maybe I'll see you around." He saunters away, sheet wrapped around his waist.

XXXXXX

The next class, the models are already waiting. You're surprised to find that you're working with Dean again.

He shrugs when you ask him why he signed up for you again. You don't say it, but there are definitely prettier girls in the class who would appreciate his company.

"I like talking to you," he explains while you arrange him and his sheet how you like. "Besides, pretty doesn't always mean they'd be my type. I like girls with a little more substance."

You're not sure what to say to that, but you can feel yourself blushing. You quickly hide behind your easel, hoping he didn't see.

XXXXXX

Dean continues to sign up to be your model. Part of you doesn't mind- the young man is gorgeous. The other part of you definitely minds. You're still not sure how to handle his compliments and other attempts to flirt with you.

When he's not flirting, you get along well. He's excellent at making you laugh, a fact that seems to please him judging by the triumphant look on his face whenever he succeeds.

The professor occasionally drops by to check up on you. He's impressed by how your art is progressing and while he does wish Dean would mix it up a bit, he was the one who told the models they could pick their artist for each class.

XXXXXX

The term passed quickly. You and Dean grow closer with every class. He'd programed his number into your phone at the end of the fifth class. Since then, you've texted regularly. Dean is also a student at the college, though he's getting his degree in sports medicine. You don't see him often outside of class and when you do, he's usually surrounded by friends- two handsome men, one with a thick Cajun accent and the other with bright blue eyes, and two women, a beautiful, petite blonde and a bubbly redhead. Despite this, he always acknowledges you, calling you by name and treating you like he would a dear friend.

All too soon, you reach your last class with Dean. You're excited to be done with nude models, but sad that you won't have talking to Dean to look forward to anymore.

You're quieter than usual, not responding as quickly to Dean. The young man probably notices, but he doesn't mention it if you do.

When the professor says class is dismissed, you take a little longer than usual to pack up your things. Suddenly you realize Dean hasn't left with the other models. In fact, the model is standing by your chair looking... nervous?

"What's wrong, Dean?" you ask.

"Y/N, would you... I have tickets to that new sci-fi movie for this Friday. I was wondering if... you would like to come with me?"

"Come with you?" you repeat. "Like... a date?"

Dean nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand if you don't want to or if you have plans. I just-"

"I would love to go with you, Dean," you say, smiling up at him.

He lights up. "Really? Awesome! I'll pick you up at five, so we can do dinner before, okay?"

"Okay," you say, nodding. "I'll be ready."


End file.
